


In My Brothers Place

by ImpalaSecrets



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Bottom Sam Winchester, Cock Rings, Come Marking, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester First Time, Dirty Talk, During Canon, Face-Fucking, First Time Bottoming, Flogging, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Con/Rape Outside of Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam Winchester Whump, Season/Series 08, Self-Blaming Sam Winchester, Sex Toys, Shower Sex, Sibling Incest, Top Dean Winchester, Victim Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-19 13:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20658347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpalaSecrets/pseuds/ImpalaSecrets
Summary: Sam tried hard to get air into his lungs, but the weight on his back was solid and unmoving. He could vaguely hear voices talking as he tried to focus on what they were saying and not the pounding in his head.“You tried to fuck over the wrong person, Dean, and now you're gonna pay the price for the money you lost me.”Sam blinked again, trying to catch sight of the room. He looked up from the tiled floor to see Dean struggling against some brute who had a knife to his throat and an arm wrapped around his chest.“I was gonna let you earn it back yourself, but I think I’ll get my message across a lot clearer if baby brother here clears your debt.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All!  
Here it is, my submission for the SPN Dark Fic Bang for 2019. This fic was something outside the norm for me. Its something I have seeked out to read often enough that I decided it was time to give it a shot and write my own version. I want to be clear that there is non-con in this that is written for the purposes of kink and I in no way condone said acts in the real world outside of fiction. I love making Sammy hurt especially when Dean is there to make it better and that is the essence of this fic. I was lucky enough to have the support of an amazing beta reader and editor who I could not do without. I was also incredibly lucky to have been paired with the most talented artist I have ever had the pleasure to work with. Her art for this fic will make your jaw drop, I was in awe of it (don't be ashamed if you stop reading just to stare it, its a new favorite past time of mine). She also helped to beta for me and gave me so much support and I cannot say enough about how amazing they are. The link to the art is here [ In My Brothers Place: Art ](https://blindswandive.livejournal.com/90370.html) , along with a link to her AO3 [ BlindSwanDive ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlindSwandive/pseuds/BlindSwandive) , which you should all check out. So without further ramblings, hope you enjoy, and head the tags my friends.

Sam tried hard to get air into his lungs, but the weight on his back was solid and unmoving. He could vaguely hear voices talking as he tried to focus on what they were saying and not the pounding in his head.

“You tried to fuck over the wrong person, Dean, and now you're gonna pay the price for the money you lost me.” 

Sam blinked again, trying to catch sight of the room. He looked up from the tiled floor to see Dean struggling against some brute who had a knife to his throat and an arm wrapped around his chest.

“I was gonna let you earn it back yourself, but I think I’ll get my message across a lot clearer if baby brother here clears your debt.”

“Let him go you sonovabitch!” Dean spat and Sam tried and failed again to lift himself. He couldn’t remember how they’d gotten into this mess. He knew it was Vegas week and he’d seen Dean getting hauled off out of a private poker room. He remembered racing after him, and then…nothing.

“Now, now. I promise that we will return little Sammy here to you in the morning, and that’s more than you deserve.” The man who was speaking was wearing a well-tailored pinstripe suit, and was giving Sam a lascivious stare. It was rare that Sam was the object of that kind of look. He had plenty of woman eye him up and down and even a few men, all looking at him as a big strong man to ravish them. This man—this man looked at him like he wanted to _ do _ the ravishing.

“You lay a finger on him and I’ll fucking kill you,” Dean growled, pushing against the knife.

Sam then felt something hard and metal push to the base of his skull, followed by the sound of a hammer cocking back. Sam froze and met Dean’s eyes for the first time, watching him go still as well. “Lucky for me I have a specific line up of clientele who will pay top-dollar for a fine bitch such as this. Jeff, give him the cocktail, would you?”

Sam’s heart began to race as he felt the prick of a needle in his neck. Dean began pleading now, “Hey, your beef is with me okay? I’ll do whatever you want, just let him go!”

“Deeean,” Sam slurred, trying to get his tongue to work. He felt heavy all over, like his muscles were Jello and his skin was tingling. The weight was lifted off his back, but the press of the gun was still firm against his head.

“It’s okay, Sammy, just hang in there. What the hell did you give to him?” Dean snarled again. Sam blinked, trying to lick his dry lips and failing. His mind was fine, he felt fully awake, but they’d obviously given him some kind of paralytic.

“Just a little drug cocktail; it won’t knock him out completely but it makes him more pliable and responsive. He is a big fellow, so I gave him a little extra dose. Tom, why don’t you and Mark escort Dean here to a waiting room where he can watch the activities?” The man in the pinstripe suit waved a hand and two men began dragging Dean out a door Sam hadn’t noticed before.

“Eeean,” was all he managed before the door shut and Dean disappeared. He couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him. He was completely vulnerable and unable to defend himself. He hadn’t realized how much Dean’s presence alone had calmed him. Now that he was alone with the shark of a man and his goonies, his heart rate ratched up.

“Aww look at his eyes, boys. Our little bitch is nervous. Why don’t you divest him of those clothes and we can get him ready for the first client?”

“What set up is first?” One of the men asked, as he began to pull off Sam’s flannel. Another set of hands reached under him and undid his jeans.

“Unnnghh,” Sam grunted, glaring up at the man in the suit. Rough hands pulled at his jeans, dragging down his boxer briefs with them. His soft cock was now mashed under him against the cold tile floor, and in a matter of minutes he was completely naked and stretched out. His muscles flinched and twitched in his attempts to move, but none seemed to be working.

“Alright, gag him and string him up, then grab box B. Mr. Wiliker likes that one best.” The man in the suit crouched down in front of Sam a moment, meeting his eyes. He reached out a hand, and in an almost gentle caress, tucked the hair out of his eyes. “Be a good little bitch and I won’t have to bring your brother out here to take your place.” Sam glared at the man, though he doubted it was very intimidating considering his current position. It was the best threat he could make though, since he wouldn’t want to risk Dean being in this position.

Hands were suddenly shoving a large rubber ring into his mouth that stretched his lips wide, keeping his mouth open. They buckled it tight around the back of his head. He gagged as two fingers shoved into his mouth, flopping around his tongue. It was salty and vile and he wanted nothing more than to bite down on them…but couldn’t.

“What a wet slutty mouth on this one. Maybe the boss will let us fuck it raw once the clients are done.” The man with the fingers in his mouth laughed.

“I don’t mind the leavings if you don’t, but I want a piece of his pussy myself.” They both laughed, and at that, Sam felt his skin flush red with shame. “Bet even after all the cock he takes he’ll be nice and tight.”

“Time will tell. Help me get the bitch up.” Two hands grasped under his arms and lifted him off the ground with a good deal of effort. Leather cuffs were attached to his wrists and used to pull his arms up to a ring in the ceiling. Unfortunately as a hunter he had been strung up like this before, but with his muscles so loose all his weight was pulling on his shoulders, and his feet touching the ground offered no support.

“There we go. Say Jeff, do we need to prep him or does the client want to do it?”

“Uhhh.” Jeff flipped through some kind of clipboard, standing in front of him now. “Nah, he wants to do it himself.” Sam felt a shiver run through him. He’d experimented before, certainly more than Dean would have ever suspected. While he’d gotten and received a few blowjobs from some guys at school, he never let anyone penetrate him. He’d never admit it to anyone, but a part of him was saving that. Saving that part of himself just in case Dean ever wanted it. It was sick to think about it, sick to want it, but he couldn’t help keeping that little bit of hope alive. That maybe Dean might want him that way and if he did, Dean would be the only one to have him like that

“Alright, have fun sweetheart.” The man gave him a pat on the ass that made Sam flinch before they just left him hanging there. He felt a strange heat building under his skin. He gave a feeble attempt at twisting in his binds, but didn’t accomplish much. Drool dripped down his chin, which was disgusting and embarrassing. Maybe Dean would find a way to bust them out of here, but judging by the large number of armed men he’d seen already, he didn’t think it was likely.

His eyes darted up when the door swung open and large man stepped into the room. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans and had a bit of a beer gut. He grinned as his eyes looked over Sam’s naked form. “What a pretty baby we have here, all trussed up for me.”

Sam wanted to rail and scream, beg the man to leave him alone, but anything he would try and say would only come out garbled with the gag. He resigned himself to giving the man a death glare. “Awww, now your eyes seem awful angry, but this monster clit of yours says different.” A meaty hand wrapped around his cock and gave it a tentative squeeze.

He tried to stifle a muffled grunt looking down in distress to see he was half hard and getting harder. _ What the fuck? _ With the sheen of sweat and tension in his body, he began to realize there had been more than just a paralytic in those drugs. The man gave him an almost painful squeeze and he couldn’t hold back the whimper, feeling his cock harden under the harsh treatment.

“There we go, gonna milk this sweet clit and make you come for me baby.” Sam raged against it, thinking he’d come over his dead body. The man only grinned, walking behind him out of sight. He would have twisted his head to see if it hadn’t felt so hard to move. He looked around the room, seeing if there was anything he could help himself with. The walls were bare, however, and too far away. He did notice a video camera mounted in both corners of the room, red lights blinking. His stomach dropped, remembering what the suited man had said about Dean watching. Was Dean really going to watch this?

He felt a roll of nausea, his skin flushing red at the thought. He didn’t have long to dwell on the thought before a slick finger was rammed up inside him. He groaned and bit down on the gag at the unfamiliar intrusion. The finger roamed and wiggled and prodded at his fairly lax insides. It burned and stretched and he just wanted it out of him. He was going to kill this motherfucker the second he got out of here.

“There we go, sweet baby, let’s find the right spot,” the beefy man crooned, crooking his finger and grazing a spot inside him that made him see stars. His cock bobbed in enthusiasm and he let out a low moan. The man chuckled, running his finger over the same spot again and again. The sensation was intense and foreign and felt like he was losing even more control as his body responded to this man.

“Yeah, your needy little hole is just dying to be filled, isn’t it my sweet little bitch? Don’t worry, I’m gonna feed all your hungry little holes and leave you totally fucked, just like you need.” The man’s finger retreated and Sam let out a small sigh of relief. It was short lived as something hard was being pushed at his entrance again. “Come on, let it in baby, you're gonna like it. Make that slutty hole of yours feel real good.”

His body could offer no resistance to whatever it was the man was pushing inside him. He was completely at this man’s mercy as he pushed into parts of Sam no one, not even himself, had breached. The burn and stretch was intense, and he had a feeling that if not for the drugs and liberal amount of lube, he’d have been split and bleeding by now. Finally, whatever it was popped into place with what felt like a flared head. It was long and seated deep within him, pressing against that one spot the man had brushed over with his finger.

He tried to breath through his nose and settle into the intrusion when the man flicked some kind of switch and the toy inside him started to vibrate at a teeth chattering level. His body gave a weak buck, but try as he might he couldn’t stop the whimpering sound from leaving his stretched lips. His cock was rock hard and weeping, almost to the point of pain.

“Alright, bitch, let’s get all this skin nice and warmed up for me.” The man behind him made a few shuffling sounds before a streak of hot pain laced over his back. It came in waves, as what he thought must be a flogger was ruthlessly slashed across his back and shoulders. He was an overwhelmed mess of sensation, his prostate mercilessly stimulated and back laced with fire. Somehow his erection had not flagged and was still rock hard. The man wasn’t holding back, and Sam’s mind narrowed to just the pain and pleasure his body was rocked with. He mewled and strained to stay quiet, and not to give the man the satisfaction of his response, but it was so damn hard.

“Come on little slut, come for me, spill all your little bitch juices.” The man laughed as he pressed up against his back, the scratchy shirt agony on Sam’s welted skin. A slick hand grasped his cock while another began twisting and teasing at his nipple. The man rutted against him, toy still vibrating, and it was all too much sensation—he felt his body give. He came hard on a pained cry, balls tightening up as the orgasm felt like it was being ripped from him.

He thought he whited out for a moment, losing track of time. As he came to he felt dirty and used in a way he’d never known he could feel. Even after being tormented in the pit by Lucifer. This was different, more real, more crushing and filthy. His body was still limp and pliant. He panted through the gag and tried to get his focus back, shame washing over him as he saw the mess he’d made on the floor.

“That’s a good little slut, so hot for it, aren’t you baby?” the man purred, clicking the vibrator down to a lower setting but not turning it off. He heard the clink of chains and felt himself being lowered to the ground so that his knees rested on the tile below him. The man walked around in front of him and pulled his hard, red erection from his pants.

“Alright, pretty baby. open up.” The man grabbed his hair painfully tight with both hands and sunk his erection into Sam’s stretched mouth 'til he hit the back of his throat. He choked and coughed around the intrusion, tasting salty musk flavor on his tongue and the heavy hot weight of the appendage. He wanted to pull back, to spit it out, to punch, to scream, but he couldn’t do any of that. All he could do is sit there and take it.

The man groaned in pleasure before he began fucking Sam’s mouth in earnest. He coughed and gagged every time the man shoved to the back of his throat, but it didn’t seem to deter him one bit as he rammed his pelvis into Sam’s face. Sam scrunched his eyes shut and prayed it would be over soon, that this was the last of it and he could get the hell out of here. The man’s hips finally began to stutter and salty hot come hit the back of his throat. He pulled out part way, painting Sam’s face with the warm sticky substance. 

He couldn’t open his eyes without getting the crap in them. He desperately wanted a shower, a burning hot scalding shower to rinse all the filth away. The man patted him on the head like a dog, running fingers through his hair. “You’re a real good fuck, kid. Thanks for the ride.” With that, he heard footsteps and a door opening and closing. He waited there on his knees, the low vibration of the toy becoming more uncomfortable by the minute.

His body shook with the pull of the restraints and the constant stimulation. He could feel the drugs still thick in his system, and felt drained and exhausted. He blinked his eyes open once he heard the door open and the two men from before walked in. “Well now, aren’t you a pretty picture.”

“Uuck ooo,” he managed to garble out, but it only made him feel all the more ridiculous. He wanted Dean, he wanted his brother to come and save him like he always did. But as much as he wanted that, Dean seeing him like this was also the _ last _ thing he wanted.

“What was that, sweetheart? I couldn’t hear you.” The man laughed as he hit a button, and chain dropped Sam face down on the tile. They hit him with another dose of something before pulling him up to face the back half of the room. He hadn’t seen it before, but now he saw a simple king sized bed with nothing on it but a fitted sheet. They dragged him over to it, laying him down on his back in the middle of the bed. They cuffed his wrists, spread over his head to the far ends of the headboard. He felt a tingling sensation running through him and was able to get a small wiggle from his fingers. The new shot had reversed some of the paralysis. He struggled against the bonds while the two men stood over him, watching him flail like a fish that was tossed on shore. He panted with the effort realizing there was nothing he could do to get out of the bonds. His muscles were still weak and shaky at best.

“Welp, the bitch seems secure, take the plug out and call in the next group.” One of the men reached down and rocked out the plug from his ass while he futilely tried to kick out. It left him feeling empty and cold. It wasn’t helping when the guy held up a bottle of cold lube and squeezed an excessive amount into him. He huffed and cringed at the cold sensation on his tender insides, but was glad to have the plug finally out. A cock ring was rolled onto his dick which was quickly hardening to his horror. 

Before they left, the bigger man knelt down by Sam’s head, gleeful smile on his face and pointed up to a flashing camera in the corner. “See that there, bitch? We’ve got your big bro locked up in a room with nothing to do but watch these cameras. Make sure to put on a good show for him, so he can see what a little slut his brother really is. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize whoring out your slutty little holes is a good way to make a buck instead of cheating people like my boss.” The man patted him on the head and they both walked out of the room, leaving Sam alone with his shame.

His eyes darted up to one of the cameras looking at the flashing red light. He hoped that even if the man was telling the truth, that Dean wasn’t watching, he’d look away from this. Deep down, he knew Dean wouldn’t do that, he’d never leave Sam alone like that. He closed his eyes and pushed the thought of Dean away as the door creaked open again.


	2. Chapter 2

A group of guys pushed into the room, laughing and shoving and tossing back drinks. He thought they looked like a bunch of rich kids just out of college. Ties were askew and hair ruffled, eyes bloodshot. Sam counted quick to see five of them.

“Hey, Tim, you weren’t kidding. He’s a big bitch, huh?” One guy laughed, stalking over to the bed.

Sam glared at him best he could, again wishing he wasn’t so exposed; the guy only laughed at him. “Yeah, I wanted someone we could really bring down a peg or two. She’s perfect, isn’t she?” The guy who must be Tim grinned, coming to the other side of the bed.

“Fuck, look at that mouth all open and wet,” one of the guys from the foot of the bed remarked.

“Go ahead, Mark. Break in the bitch's pretty little mouth.” Tim, the obvious ringleader, trailed his finger over Sam’s stomach making him twitch. 

The guy at the end of the bed wasted no time taking off his clothes crawling up on the bed. Sam thrashed and kicked but Tim and the other guy quickly held his legs down while Mark climbed up, sitting on his chest. It pushed the air out of his lungs and he coughed, trying to take in a deep breath. Mark ignored him. Grasping his hair and yanking his head forward, he slid his half hard cock into Sam’s open mouth.

Sam gagged and coughed around the intrusion, his eyes watering, “Fuck it’s so wet, and I can even fuck his throat.” Mark groaned, pushing in a little deeper, and Sam struggled to breath through his nose.

“Hell yeah ride his face Markie!” one guy called out, and Mark began thrusting in and out, one hand braced on the wall behind him and the other still gripping Sam’s hair as his cock fully hardened now. Sam’s nose was assaulted with the musky scent as he rammed in deep.

“Holy fuck, it feels so good, made for taking cock. You like that, huh, bitch? Getting used like the slut you are? Fuck yeah you do.” Mark was babbling now and Sam just tried to focus on getting in air.

Hands were on him then, pulling and teasing at his nipples, a hand wrapped around his bound cock, squeezing at it. He made a garbled gasp around the cock in his mouth, struggling to kick.

“Awww don’t worry bitch, we’ll take good care of you…fill you up good,” a voice called.

Hands pulled at his legs, spreading them painfully wide. He kicked and struggled against the bruising grip. He couldn’t believe what was happening. The jeers and taunts filled the room as an ominous weight settled between his legs. Mark kept up the punishing thrusts into his mouth, crooning at how wet and soft his throat was. It felt more like a searing fire to him.

He felt hands on his ass spreading his cheeks and the press of a blunt cock head to his hole. He struggled to breath, to kick, to fight, anything to get away as the cock sunk into him. It burned, more than the finger or the toy. It was an unrelenting stretch as the guy drove into him to the hilt.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” the guy groaned.

“Hurry up and fuck that tight bitch hole!”

“Give it to him hard!”

“Come on, fill him good!”

“Wreck that slut!”

The man wasted little time thrusting into Sam at a rapid pace. He choked on the cock in his mouth as he tried and failed to squirm away from the unwanted intrusion. The weight of all the bodies around him was suffocating, and he felt lightheaded from lack of air. Mark pulled out of his mouth then, coming all over his face. He cringed as the guy wiped his cock off on his collarbone before rolling off him. The guy at his ass hadn’t missed a beat, still fucking him hard. The next guy moved up to sit on his chest, as yet another cock was rammed down his throat.

He lost track of time, lost track of all of them fucking him, taking their turns taunting him and using him. His mind floated off 'til he was just a body of sensation. He wasn’t Sam anymore, he was a set of holes to be used. He was exhausted and limp and covered in come as the guys eventually finished with him, pinching at him and laughing as they gathered their clothes.

“Thanks for the good fuck, little bitch,” the last guy to leave sneered at him. He stuck a finger up inside him and wiggled it around, eliciting a moan. His cock throbbed and ached, still bound in the cock ring. “You are so wrecked and loose, bet you could fit two cocks up there now. Maybe next time.” The guy pulled his hand out and gave his cock a hard smack, making him cry out in pain as the man chuckled, leaving the room. 

It had to be over. Sam didn’t know how much more he could stand. He already wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out again. He was fairly sure he’d rather be torn apart by a werewolf than go through this.

It wasn’t long before the same two guys came back in the room, whistling as they took him in. “Well, now, you looked good and fucked, don’t you?” 

Sam still was with it enough to struggle, as he was injected with another dose of drugs. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it left him feeling light and fuzzy and limp. His cock ached with the need to come despite the pain his body was in.

He was unbuckled and maneuvered face down over a wedge pillow. He couldn’t get his mind to focus as his wrists were tied around the pillow to his knees, his own hands holding his legs spread. Thankfully the ring gag was taken out of his mouth, because his jaw ached at how stiff it felt. He blinked up at the camera, wondering how he must look. He was sure Dean was crawling the walls at this point.

The men said nothing as they left him bound there with his ass to the door. He was unsurprised when they were quickly followed by yet another man there to use him. Guy after guy streamed in over the next few hours. Each taking from him, fucking him hard. Most were fairly quick—some talked to him, some didn’t. His body offered little resistance as he slipped in and out of consciousness. One guy pressed four fingers into him and wondered out loud if he could fit his whole fist. Luckily, that guy had been kicked out by the next before Sam learned if he could really take a fist. He came to sometime later to the door opening and the two guys returning with their boss behind them.

“Well now, seems like you earned back your brother’s debt and then some tonight,” the man said with a sick smile on his face. Sam didn’t even have it in him to glare. He couldn’t bear the thought of Dean seeing him like this. Just the mention of his brother made him sick with shame. “Okay, let’s get him ready to go.”

Sam was unbound and his cock ring released, making him cry out at the sudden rush of blood. He hurt so bad and needed to come, but he’d be damned if they pulled that out of him again. The guys threw his clothes at him and he struggled to get his limbs working.

“W-w-where’s Dean?” he managed to mutter, dropping his shirt for the fourth time. The drugs were wearing off but his whole body was wrecked.

“Get your hands off me!” He heard Dean’s growling voice before he saw him enter the room. The hurt and pain in Dean’s eyes when he saw him was enough to make Sam wish the earth would just swallow him up.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was kneeling in front of him before he could so much as blink, cupping his face in his hands, eyes searching him over. Sam shoved weakly at his brother to get off of him. Last thing he needed was Dean to see him like this. 

“Fine,” he grunted, pulling his shirt on over his head finally and he tipped forward, dragging his wobbly legs under him. It was an effort to get his pants on and he finally had to concede to letting Dean help him, though he wouldn’t meet his eyes.

The two thugs just stood by the door smiling, arms crossed while Dean gathered Sam beside him, arm slung over his shoulder. He looked about ready to plow through the guys, but they simply stood back, door open for them.

“Come back anytime pretty bitch.” The guy Jeff smiled at him as they passed and Sam had to practically shove a spitting, growling Dean past him and toward the closest exit. Dean muttered and spit under his breath and Sam was just grateful Dean knew better than to piss off the heavily armed men any further. The next half hour was a blur as they finally made it to the car, and Dean sped off the main strip toward their Elvis-themed hotel. Sam rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window and just wished the earth would swallow him up.

“Gonna be okay, Sam, just stay with me okay?” Dean kept saying encouraging words, almost like Sam was on the brink of death. Sure, everything hurt, he ached in places he never even felt before, but he wasn’t going to die…he just wished he could.

Sitting in the seat was painful, but he knew it would likely hurt a lot more once the drugs really wore off. He felt his lids getting heavier by the second and he needed to get out of the tight enclosure of the car. For once he wished Dean would put on one of his cassettes, if just to drown out his own thoughts.

“Alright, home sweet home.” Dean tried for a half grin but Sam couldn’t muster a response. He fumbled with the door handle and suddenly the door gave way, and he would’ve toppled out if Dean’s solid form wasn’t there to catch him. “Come on, you big moose, almost there.” Dean hoisted him up under one arm and he drug his feet after him.

Dean maneuvered Sam into the room, and Sam made to move toward the bed but Dean guided him toward the bathroom instead. The drugs left him still so sluggish, and he didn’t think he’d slept in over twenty four hours. “Sleep, Dean,” he grumbled, but doesn’t have the strength to pull against him.

“Gotta get you cleaned up first, make sure you're okay,” Dean said, patting his chest. He was in full protector mode and Sam knew he was absolutely unmoveable when he got like this. He went, it was easier moving where Dean directed him. He propped Sam up against the sink and winced at the jolt of pain that caused. Dean’s brow furrowed at the look on his face, scanning his features, and Sam really wished that he could just disappear right now.

“Dean,” he grunted, and his brother nodded, moving to turn the shower on. A hot shower did sound good, only his limbs were shaking as his body burned through the drugs. The idea of lifting his arms to wash seemed insurmountable. All of this he could figure out, but his erection still hadn’t waned since he left that fucking casino.

He laughed, thinking of the commercial about erections lasting more than four hours. Dean turned to look at him with a raised brow, but Sam was too tired to bother explaining. This whole situation felt like the _ Twilight Zone _.

“Arms up,” Dean said, walking to him. Sam had a sudden flash back to his childhood, of Dean helping him change when he was little.

“I can dooo it,” he answered, and frowned at his slurred speech.

“You can’t even lift your arms.” 

Sam looked down at his own arms and realized the truth in Dean’s words. He still wasn’t sure how much Dean saw of the past few hours, but he had kept some hope that he can maintain his dignity.

“Let me help you…please, Sammy?” There it was, that tone. Dean knew. He had seen it all, though he was trying to keep it off his face, it was all there, just in the way he spoke Sam’s name. He flushed scarlet but doesn’t fight as Dean wrestled the shirt over his head.

He flinched when Dean moved to unzip his jeans, pressing his eyes shut and concentrating on not making a sound as the pain reverberate through him. He’s had worse, he’s been through hell… literally. Dean’s hands were careful—it wasn’t the first time they’ve helped each other get undressed to tend a wound. Still, he felt more exposed now than he ever has with Dean. He caught a glimpse of his jeans and the bit of blood and staining in them. It wasn’t terrible, it could have been a lot worse. Still, Sam was pretty sure he was just gonna burn everything he wore that night.

He blinked heavy and long, and glanced up when Dean tugged him toward the shower. He suddenly noticed that Dean is naked, too. It made sense if he planned on getting in the shower, but this is crossing all kinds of lines…even for them.

Sam’s tired eyes kept lingering over Dean’s long, lean form, despite trying not to. It was a herculean effort to get his legs over the side of the motel tub. He braced against the tiled wall with his right hand, feeling Dean’s warmth behind him. Dean’s arm wrapped around his side, bracing him and stopping him from swaying.

“Easy there, lets move you up a little.” Dean’s voice was deep, soothing, and familiar—unlike all those other voices and hands. He shuffled forward toward the spray and tipped into it, letting it soak through his hair and warm his sore, aching muscles. He felt Dean’s strong, calloused hands as they skated over his skin with a bar of soap. It felt good, more than good, and he watched the dirty water swirl down the drain before him.

“Gonna make sure you’re okay. Just stay still for me.” 

Sam was too exhausted to process the words, but he felt Dean’s left hand move to his hip while his right slide between the crack of his ass. Sam gasped at the touch and quickly grit his teeth. 

“Shhh, won’t hurt you, okay? But I gotta see if you need a real doctor.” Dean’s slick fingers moved to pull at Sam’s cheeks and he bit back the protest. He’d imagined Dean doing this to him a hundred times, but never like this, never for this reason.

“M’fine,” he muttered, and Dean’s hands finally retreated with a few quick slides of the bar of soap.

“Okay, let’s get this hair washed and then to bed, all right?”

Sam tried to nod but swayed instead, nearly toppling out of the shower if Dean didn’t catch him. Firm left hand splayed across his chest, his back was pressed against Dean’s front. Dean shifted them back out of the spray of water and Sam blinked down at himself. He was a mess of hickies and bite marks and bruises, whip marks showing up around his sides to hint at what his back must look like. All of this was nothing compared to his still painfully hard cock, red and angry jutting out before him.

“Close your eyes.” Dean directed him, and then Sam felt fingers sinking into his scalp. He couldn’t help but let out an involuntary moan at how good it felt. Dean chuckled softly and it was such an amazing sound. Sam let go then, letting Dean bear most of his weight and concentrated on the gentle rubbing of his hair.

“Gonna let me help you, Sammy?” Dean asked in a huskier voice. Sam wasn’t sure what Dean was talking about, but then he felt the slippery hand leave his hair and wrap around his cock. Sam froze… this was so beyond a brotherly touch. Dean waited, as if expecting for Sam to tell him to get his hands off him. But how could he do that? When he needed Dean, needed his touch now more than ever. It’s wrong how incredibly _ not _ wrong it felt. And then he was moving, hand sliding up and down Sam’s cock in a slick motion. 

Sam drew in ragged breaths as his aching cock throbbed at the attention. It was just this side of painful, but he needed it, needed the release of pressure. “D-Dean, Dean,” he huffed out, not knowing what he was asking for.

“I got you. Come on, Sammy, it's all right.” Dean calmed him, and with a tiny squeeze he felt himself let go. It felt amazing and painful and he whined at the overstimulation, leaning against Dean for support. He felt drained now, absolutely floating. Dean shuffled them back under the spray of water and made quick work of rinsing them before he guided Sam out of the shower.

Sam felt boneless, like a doll as Dean toweled him off. He nearly fell a few more times until Dean decided boxers are all he was going to get on Sam, and moved him to the bedroom.

“Fuck,” Sam grumbled as he collapsed into the bed, body still aching all over. His heart hammered a little as he settled in, being back on a bed making him twitch. A firm hand landed on his shoulder and he went still.

Dean was there. It was just them. He was safe.

Slowly sleep took him as Dean rubbed circles on his back, his presence a warm comfort at his side.

****

Sam woke to light streaming in through the motel blinds. He winced as soon as he shifted, feeling the previous day rushing back to him. The pain was mostly a dull throb, not the worst he had ever felt, but there was something dirty and wrong about it. He remembered all those men using him, violating him, making his body react. He felt sick with it. He was almost surprised Dean didn’t leave him there. _ Dean. _ Oh god, what he’d seen and then what he’d done. Holding Sam, and taking care of him, cleaning him, getting him off. Sam had never felt shame so deep before. He pulled the blanket up, burying his face in the blanket.

“Hey, you want some food while it’s hot?” Dean’s voice came from across the room. Sam didn’t answer, groaning as he pulled the blanket higher. Dean didn’t say anything else. Sam wanted to stay under the blankets forever, just drift away to dust. His bladder had other ideas, and he eventually shuffled off to the bathroom. He found his duffle in there, and quickly pulled on clothes so he didn’t have to look at all the bruises and marks on his skin.

Looking in the mirror, he didn’t think he knew the man staring back at him. He thought he hadn’t known that man for a long time. He was nothing but a failure, a let down, a bad brother, and now, not even a good enough hunter to defend himself against humans. Dean would be better off without him, or maybe with that vamp, Benny. Sam shuddered at the idea, his skin crawling at the thought. But he hadn’t been able to save Dean from purgatory, and it felt like he was always just making one mistake after another.

“You okay in there?” Dean’s worried voice came through the bathroom door.

“Fine,” he yelled back, feeling anything but. Eventually he had to come out of the bathroom and face his brother. Dean was at the small kitchen table with two cups of coffee, and what looked like pancakes from the diner down the street. Sam gingerly sat without looking at Dean and began to pick at his food. He swallowed the two tylenol Dean left out for him without comment.

“I’m gonna go run a few errands, but I’ll bring something back for dinner,” Dean said over the table. Dean’s voice was strained and one glance at him he could see the pent up tension. Sam just nodded. He was glad Dean wasn’t suggesting hitting the road yet, ‘cause he isn’t sure his sore ass can take the Impala right now.

Dean moved and grabbed his coat, he glanced at Sam one more time a hard look on his face before he sweeps out the door. Sam wasn’t surprised that they didn’t talk about it. He didn’t want to anyway, for once he was all good with sweeping things under the rug. He cleaned up and collapsed back on the bed, dozing off for a few hours since the light was low in the room. Eventually he heard Dean’s key in the door.

His brother slid back into the room, moving a little stiff. He looked him over and noted the bit of blood on the cuff of his sleeve and the bruising around his knuckles. He wanted to protest, to yell at Dean for being foolish enough to go back there and to risk it without him. He locked eyes with his brother then and saw the look in his eyes. Stopping Dean from seeking revenge would have been a fool's errand. “It’s over,” Dean grunted, and just like that, he could feel the door closing on the subject. He wasn’t going to get any more out of him, and in the end he felt the smallest twinge of relief at the words.

“You didn’t have too,” he croaks out.

“Yes… I did,” he replies simply setting down take out dinner onto the table.

They didn’t say much after that. He picked at the dinner Dean brought and ignored his brother's frown. By the next day they were back on the road, getting as far away from Vegas as possible. Sam knew he should be looking for a hunt, but he didn’t want to do much more than sleep right now. They don’t talk, and the distance between them grew larger by the day. Dean hardly looked at him now, and hadn’t touched him in days. Not that they were always the touchy-feely kinda people, apart from a hand on a shoulder or a pat on the back.

Sam figured Dean was just done with him, going through the motions because he had too. Sam couldn’t stand it much longer. He’d hoped to maybe someday share something more with Dean, the most important person in the world to him, but he had apparently burned that to the ground like everything else in his life. 

He had made his decision. He needed to leave and let Dean go. Sitting on the motel bed, his duffel packed at his side, he waited for Dean to get back. He wasn’t gonna coward out and leave a note, he could face his brother, it was the least he owed him.

Dean walked in and froze at the sight of Sam on the end of the bed. “Sammy?” His voice was nervous now.

“I think I should go, Dean.” Sam sucked in a breath, unable to meet Dean’s eyes. “I can tell you don’t want me here anymore and I get it, believe me. I know I’ve let you down, for like the hundredth fucking time. You don’t need to keep cleaning up my mess. I’ll text you when I land somewhere.” He got up and slung the bag on his shoulder.

“Sam.” Dean threw out a hand against his chest, firm and halting. It reminded him of how Dean held him that night. “You haven’t let me down… It's me who fucked up, okay? This is all my fault.”

“Dean, don’t—”

“No, _ you _ don’t, okay? This isn’t on you, Sam. I should have gotten you out of there. I never should have let them—” Dean’s voice cracked and it was enough to make Sam turn to look at him. “I’m sorry I failed you, but gimme another chance, okay, Sammy? I promise I’ll do better.”

“You did all you could, Dean. It’s not on you, and it’s not like I haven’t survived worse. I can’t keep hanging around you, dragging you down. Okay, Dean? I’m sick or cursed.”

“No you're not, Sam. You’ve just been dealt a shit hand.”

Sam turned to Dean now, staring him down. How can he make him understand? “You don’t get it. You’ll never get it, Dean. I am so beyond fucked up.”

Dean grabbed his shoulders in a bruising grip, like he was scared Sam is going to disappear. “Just tell me, explain it to me.”

Sam barked a laugh. “You really wanna know?”

“Yeah, I really wanna know.”

“You know what was the first thing that went through my head when those guys were about to fuck me? It was, _ I wish it could have been Dean _. That’s how fucked up I am, that I had been saving myself for you.” He pushed Dean away then, trying to make a break for the door, but Dean shouldered in front of him.

“You want me?” Dean searched his face then, and Sam thought—this was it. This was when the earth would swallow him up.

“Yeah, Dean, I’ve always wanted you.” The words came out choked and small for as earth-shattering as they feel.

Dean grabbed at the bag on his shoulder, dropping it to the ground as his other hand moves up and cups Sam’s face. Sam’s heart raced at the touch, his skin desperate for contact. Dean just stared at him, eyes burning into him, and Sam wants to squirm under the scrutiny but he doesn’t dare move and break the moment.

“Stay,” Dean whispered then and Sam still wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Dean?”

Dean didn’t answer, he just moved in, tipping his head down and his lips were suddenly kissing Sam. Soft and light, experimental, he felt like he’s flying or something. He didn’t even kiss back at first, too stunned with the thought that Dean’s lips were pressed to his.

Dean laughed softly, pulling back just an inch. “You gonna kiss me back, Sammy?”

Sam huffed before diving in and kissing back and he could barely believe it was really happening, but it was. Dean’s hand was still cradling his face, the other gripping his hip. His brother moved the kiss, guided it, guided him, and isn’t that just kinda how it was meant to be? He put his hands on Dean’s shoulders and gripped him tight, and it felt like coming home. He felt his cock hardening in his jeans and gasped when Dean’s denim-clad erection brushed against his own.

“Gonna take care of you, Sam, always,” Dean whispered, moving to kiss along his neck. Sam shivered at the light scrape of teeth.

“Please Dean,” he begged, rolling his body forward and hoping Dean took the hint.

“I know, I got you baby boy, so perfect for me,” Dean crooned against his skin, and Sam all but whined with need as Dean walked him backwards toward the bed. Dean’s hands pulled at the hem of his shirt and suddenly they were stripping down, laughing and tugging at each other’s clothes and falling into the bed. Dean’s solid naked form crawled over him and he smiled up at Dean, marveling at his strength and beauty. The only person to make him feel safe.

“Want you, Dean,” he said on a ragged breath, “it should have been you.”

Dean must’ve known what he was saying, because there was a spark of fire behind his brother’s eyes, like he wanted to burn the whole world down for laying a single finger on him. No one could ever love him like Dean does, and he can’t imagine how he ever doubted it.

“You're right, it should’ve been me. I’m here now, and it’s not gonna be anyone else, ever.” Dean looked at him with such fierce love and desire that Sam had never seen before. “You're mine.” It was like something clicked in Sam, cause he knew without a shadow of doubt that it was true.

“You're mine, too,” he answered with a smile, and shifted to widen his legs, inviting him in.

Dean groaned at the gesture, reaching over to rummage through his bag on the floor and coming up with a bottle of lube. “You sure you want to?” Dean asked, worry on his face. It had been weeks since the incident and Sam was fully healed, at least physically. He thought this might be just what he needed to heal some of the wounds you couldn’t see.

“I’m good, Dean. I want this,” Sam encouraged him and Dean didn’t take any more suggesting. Dean kissed his lips before moving down his body, softly kissing over his neck and chest, licking and sucking at his skin. A slick finger rubbed against his hole and Sam felt himself twitch in anticipation.

He’d waited for this for so long/ Dean latched on to a nipple right as his finger slid in, making his back arch off the bed. Dean worked him open, slow and teasing, his body a mess of sensation as Dean’s hands and mouth felt like they were everywhere. He was soon easily taking two fingers, moaning like a cheap whore but he didn’t care. He wanted Dean to know just how good it felt.

“That’s it baby, open up for me,” Dean’s husky voice rumbled over his skin, and Sam had never wanted anything so bad.

“Come on, I’m ready. Please, Dean?” he huffed and rocked his body, hands gripping the sheets. His cock bobbed in the air, desperate for attention as it brushed against Dean’s skin.

“I got you, Sammy.” Dean smiled as he moved himself up, and suddenly the head of Dean’s cock was nudging against his hole. Dean sunk one hand into his hair, holding tight while the other was gripping onto his hip as he slowly began to sink in.

It stretched and burned and Sam breathed deep, willing his body to let Dean in. Dean rocked forward and back, and Sam’s body swallowed him up like he was always meant to be right there. It was overwhelming and incredible feeling so full.

“Look at me,” Dean huffed out, and Sam looked up at his brother’s face, taking in the sheer awe he saw there. “Good, just you and me, like it always should be, right?” Dean kissed Sam’s forehead and his cheeks and the corner of his mouth. Finally he made one final push in and swallowed up Sam’s cry in a kiss. Sam was trembling with the rush of adrenaline, and his legs wrapped around Dean’s back, locking him in.

“Move, Dean,” he pleaded out, and luckily Dean obliged, beginning a steady thrust. Dean’s movements were slow and careful and that wasn’t what Sam wanted—he wanted to feel Dean for days. He wanted Dean to smirk at him every time he shifted in his seat in the Impala. He wanted to walk a little more bow-legged like his brother. He wanted Dean and he wanted it hard.

“Not gonna break,” he growled out, “not made of glass.”

Dean smirked at him then and he suddenly he was moving. Slamming into Sam, the hard smack of his hips jarring him, and it felt like Dean was carving out a space within Sam that was all his own. Shifting up suddenly he felt the shock of Dean’s cock against his prostate. “There, there, there,” he mumbled, and Dean doubled his efforts, wrapping a slick hand around Sam’s cock.

Sam felt the building momentum, like they were hitting the gas and driving toward the cliff. He thought his whole body was about to shake apart, and only Dean’s body caging him in was gonna keep him together.

“Feels so good Sammy, so good, I’m gonna—” Dean panted and thrust and stroked and Sam was coming then. Hard and pulsing between them, his ass clamping down and he heard Dean moaning, thrusting in one last time before he felt the shiver that reverberated through both of them. Dean nestled into his neck, panting and gasping for breath. Their sweat slick skin pressed together as they each came down from their high.

Sam clung to Dean, wrapping all his long limbs around him and holding him tight. Dean chuckled softly at him but Sam didn’t care, he didn’t want to let this go, didn’t want to let Dean go.

“Not going anywhere, Sammy. Never going anywhere but right here,” Dean answered his unspoken fear. “You?”

“Not leaving, Dean. So long as you want me, I’m here,” he felt the truth of those words wash over him. “Love you,” he whispered, wondering why he didn’t say those words more. Hoping it was okay to say them now.

“Love you too, little brother,” Dean answered, making his chest swell. The Winchester boys were going to be alright, because they were right where they belonged.


End file.
